


And It Happens

by Still_Dreamin



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Prince Harry Styles, larry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3945643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_Dreamin/pseuds/Still_Dreamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does the little one with the cheekbones know the prince is in love with him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	And It Happens

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Prince Harry sighs as he stares up at the velvet drapes surrounding his bed. There's a new kitchen staff arriving today and he is completely sure that they're going to be worse than the last staff. The last staff was amazing! But it turns out the head chef had been smuggling out little articles from around the castle and Harry's father had to then let go of him for his dishonesty.

"Harry," Gemma sticks her head into Harry's sleeping chamber.

"Yes, Gems?" Harry lifts his head to look at his older sister.

"The new staff is here," She smiles, "You should pull on your coat and come on down, mother wanted a formal introduction."

"Really?" Harry replies slowly, "So, I will get to see who will be cooking my unappetizing meals?"

"You stupid, pastry," Gemma rolls her eyes and steps into Harry's chamber, "They're probably amazing, father chose them before leaving for Ireland."

Harry watches Gemma as she paces over to his desk and picks up his coat.

"Come on," She urges, holding the coat out at arms length.

Harry groans and stands up. This is going to be painful. The last staff made the best apple pie. Gosh, they made these mini apple pies just for Harry which were just amazing. This new staff probably can't make perfect mini apple pies. They probably never heard of making a mini pie!

"I am twenty, I can dress myself," Harry snatches his coat out of Gemma's hands and playfully narrows his eyes at her.

"Ah, but you've still got that baby face," Gemma teases right back and ruffles Harry's hair.

"Not the hair," Harry groans and slicks his curls back into place, "Stop staring at me and lead the way."

Gemma grabs Harry's hand and drags him out of his room.

"Frog," Harry whispers to Gemma as she drags him down the long hallway.

"Toad," Gemma softly replies.

***

Harry shuffles his feet impatiently as he stands outside the kitchen. His mother and Gemma are already inside, meeting the staff. But Harry just doesn't understand the point of this.

With a loud huff, he throws his shoulder into the heavy door and roughly shoves it open. Instantly, he sees a form go flying to the ground and a basket of tomatoes tumbles down. The red vegetables go rolling across the stone floor. The person on the ground immediately get's on all fours and start's grabbing at the nearest tomatoes, throwing them back into the basket. Harry stands there with his mouth open and looks down at the brown haired boy who he's just knocked down.

"Harry," Anne calls out his name, glaring at him. She motions down to the person on the floor with her eyes and turns her back to Harry.

Harry sighs, quickly obliging to his mother's unspoken command. He walks over and grabs a tomato on his way there, "Oops," He whispers as he kneels down beside the boy, gently placing the tomato into the basket.

The boy's head snaps up at Harry's voice, his eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. His blue eyes skim over Harry's face and he swallows, "Hi," he sits back onto his knees.

Harry smiles at the pretty face before him, "Hi, sorry for hitting you with the door."

The boy shrugs, and laughs, "Maybe if you weren't so violently fast at opening doors!" His voice is high and his laugh sounds childish. It's absolutely endearing to Harry.

Harry's eyebrows lift as he chuckles along with the soft looking boy in front of him, he couldn't be older than seventeen.

The boy's blue eyes drift lower from Harry's face. He suddenly stops laughing and his eyes go wide. Harry's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Prince Harry," the boys stands immediately and takes a step back, having recognized who Harry is from his attire. 

Harry looks up at his flustered expression.

"Sir, my sincerest apologies, I didn't realize you were the prince himself," The boy bows his head in shame.

Harry grabs another tomato, "Don't be like that," he replies.

"Like, what?" The boy looks back up, his hands grasped behind his back.

"Don't act like I'm the king or something," Harry shakes his head and continues piling tomatoes into the basket, even the partially squashed looking ones.

"I'll get those," Louis rushes toward the tomatoes again.

"This is lovely, I squashed the tomatoes," Harry sarcastically mutters as he shakes tomato guts off his hand.

"My fault, really," Louis grabs Harry's hand and wipes it off with his apron. 

Harry smiles as the boy grabs his hand with his smaller one and gently cleans off the tomato, "What's you name?"

"Louis, your majesty," Louis replies, opening Harry's hand and making sure he's cleaned it perfectly.

"Louis," Harry smiles at Louis' lowered eyes. His eyelashes are long and Harry can't help but admire the way they cast shadows across his lovely cheeks. And he can't help but admire the cheekbones that are elegant and just ever so present in Louis' features.

"I'll be going," Louis stands up and latches his hands onto the basket, picking it up and walking away, quickly.

Harry watches Louis go with a soft expression on his face. He sits down onto his backside and winces as he feels a tomato squish under him.

***

Harry retreats back to his chamber that day and immediately pulls out a book to feign studying.

The new staff seemed alright, but that Louis kid looked far too young to be working with the rest of them. Maybe, Harry will talk to him again. If he is in fact 17, it might be a problem. Harry's taken quite a liking to the soft face and small hands of that boy. And, if he's three years his junior, he may just be left admiring him from afar forever.

***

Dinner that night is actually incredible. Louis comes out to serve, along with a few other members of the staff. Harry stares at him intensely as the head chef speaks about the meal they've prepared.

Louis' eyes are trained on the floor, his hands clasped under the dish he is holding. He's wearing all blue and a grey apron, as it is the kitchen uniform. His left foot is lightly tapping up and down from nerves.

Suddenly, Louis' blue eyes flit up and his gaze fixes on Harry.

Harry slowly lifts his lips in a half smile.

Louis' eyes go back to the floor and his face rouges again.

The chef stops speaking and the servers move toward the table. Louis, of course, ends up right next to Harry's end of the table. Louis gently sets the dish on the table and spins around to leave. As he does, his foot catches on Gemma's dress and he trips forward.

Harry shoots out of his seat and grabs a hold of Louis around the waist. He steadies him upright and the whole while, Louis mumbles a string of apologies. Louis' face looks about as red as the squished tomatoes from earlier.

"My fault, really," Harry whispers Louis' own words to him. Then, he let's go. Louis rushes back to the kitchen and doesn't come out again.

***

"You fancy him!" Gemma's voice yells through Harry's bathroom door, "I know it!"

"No," Harry shouts back, toweling himself off.

"Yes," Gemma smacks the door, "Get out here and face me, tomato boy!"

Harry buries his face in his towel and stands unmoving. Great, now Gemma knows.

***

The next morning, Gemma appears in Harry's chamber right before breakfast time.

"What?" Harry moans as Gemma shakes him awake.

"Guess what Louis made you," She whispers.

"Louis?" Harry shoots upright and stares at Gemma, "I told you, I do not fancy him!"

"Well, he makes pie," Gemma motions to Harry's mahogany desk and sure enough, lying there is a freshly baked pie.

Harry just closes his eyes and lies down again, "Everyone makes pie, I'm not interested."

"He's from northern England," Gemma continues, sitting next to Harry.

Harry reaches out and shoves Gemma's shoulder, "Shut up, frog," But actually, he's very intrigued. 

"He's twenty-two," Gemma continues.

"Twenty-two?" Harry gasps and snaps his eyes wide open, "He looks seventeen!"

"Well, now you have a chance," Gemma grins at Harry, "And if you don't quite have a crush on him then, he is only a year younger than me. I'll have a go at this young lad."

Harry rolls onto his side, "Sure, go for it, I'm not interested," but he knows, Gemma is only teasing. 

As soon as Gemma leaves his chamber, Harry slides out of bed and breaks a piece off the warm pie. It's cherry, not even apple. But, Louis made this pie. And before he knows it, Harry has eaten half the pie using his fingers. His mother would be disappointed.

***

"Why aren't you eating?" Anne questions Harry at the table.

Louis walks in from the kitchen at that moment with a teapot.

"I had some lovely pie this morning," Harry replies when Louis is within earshot.

Gemma kicks Harry's leg gently from under the table. Harry ignores her for now.

"Pie?" Anne further questions.

"Gemma said she got someone from the staff to make it for me," Harry glances up at Louis, who as always, is blushing.

Anne nods Louis over for tea, and Louis obliges, silently.

"Don't know who made it, but it was quite nice. Although, apple is my favorite, cherry tasted nice as well," Harry watches Louis as he pours his mother a cup of tea, "I'd like some tea as well, Louis."

Louis nods, his eyes still cast down as he finishes filling the queen's cup. He swiftly walks to Harry and stands beside him, slowly filling his china cup.

Harry observes Louis' hands which are tightly gripping the handle of the teapot.

Gemma nudges Harry with her foot again.

***

That day, Harry has battle training. So, he has to take a meal with him if he wants to eat. He may be the prince but the trainers his father have hired are strict and would not let him leave in the middle of a training day for something as silly as food.

Harry makes sure Gemma isn't around when he suits up in his leather training clothes and bounds toward the kitchen. Gemma would just make this situation an awkward hell.

When he's outside the kitchen door, Harry runs a hand through his long curls and pushes them into place. Then, he gently opens the door a crack and slips inside.

It's loud inside and everybody is busy, already occupied with the task of making the mid-day meal. Amongst all the staff whom Harry knows little about, is Louis. He's standing amongst two taller men, chopping away at carrots.

Harry strides over and taps Louis' shoulder.

"I'm currently occupied," Louis shouts above the din, not bothering to turn around, "Go do something useful and stop bothering me, Malory."

"Who's Malory?" Harry questions.

The knife slips out of Louis hand and clatters to the floor. He jumps backward to avoid the falling knife and bumps into Harry.

Harry smiles and grabs Louis's elbows, "Careful, sir Louis."

Louis quickly retrieves the knife and sets it on the counter. Then, he slowly turns around, "My apologies, Prince Harry. I assumed you were Malory," His eyes are wide again, as if he's scared of Harry.

"Who's Malory?" Harry smiles.

"The blonde girl who talks too much," Louis nods at the girl who is currently peeling potatoes.

"She's pretty," Harry comments, seeing that Malory is in fact quite pretty. She has a straight nose, thin lips and large eyes that give her a doll-like appearance.

"Sure," Louis shrugs, "If you're attracted to ladies."

Harry feels his smile stretch further as Louis says that. This boy seems like a kind, funny spirit. If only he'd stop acting as if Harry were some almighty God and consider Harry as just a person.

"I needed to get a lunch as I am heading out for training today," Harry tells Louis, "I was hoping you would be free to make me something."

"I-" Louis hesitates and looks around the busy kitchen, "Yes, of course, sir. What would you like?"

"A sandwich would be easy," Harry replies.

So, Louis makes him just that. With shaky hands a shakier laugh, Louis makes Harry a quick sandwich. Along with that, he packs Harry an apple.

Harry doesn't say anything as Louis prepares his lunch. He just watches him intently.

The lady next to Malory nudges her and leans close, "Does the little one with the cheekbones know the prince is in love with him?"

Malory snaps her head up to see Harry gazing at Louis with a soft smile. Louis on the other hand is busy setting food into a carrying basket.

"I guess not," She responds, feeling her heart sink at the sight, "He never seems to notice people's feelings toward him."

***

Harry arrives back at the castle very late that night. Everyone must be asleep when he enters, because the hallways are quiet and empty, save for the candlelight flickering off the stone walls.

Since he didn't make it back in time for dinner, Harry assumes he will have to feed himself. He's about to turn to head toward the kitchen, when a form at the table catches his attention. Someone is sitting there with their head resting on top of their arms.

As Harry nears he sees who it is, "Louis?" He calls out.

Louis jolts up and looks around bewildered for a second. When he finally settles his gaze on Harry he stands, "Prince Harry."

"Chef Louis," Harry counters.

"Would you like supper?" Louis questions.

"Have you been waiting on me?" Harry curiously asks.

Louis nods in return.

"By command, or by choice?" Harry curiously asks, walking to the dining table.

"Choice," Louis lowers his gaze, "I understand I probably shouldn't be here by choice."

"No," Harry shakes his head, "It's nice that you have chosen to stay. It warms my heart."

Louis raises his gaze and curiously studies Harry's face, "I will return with your meal."

Harry raises an eyebrow, "Have you eaten?"

Louis shakes his head, "Then, bring enough food for two, and we'll dine."

Louis stands there in shock.

"Go, now," Harry urges.

Louis rushes off.

Harry smiles and sits down. But alas, the dinner doesn't go as planned, Harry's mother shows up and when Louis brings out the food, he glances between her and Harry. With a subtle shake of his head, he sets down the dishes and retreats to the kitchen.

Harry's mother stays till Harry has eaten, asking him about his day. When she finally retreats back up the stairs, Harry grabs the things off the table and rushes toward the kitchen. 

When Harry barges in, he finds Louis sitting on a counter, eating a roll of bread with cheese and grapes.

"Good, you ate!" Harry grins, shoving the dishes he's carrying onto an empty counter.

"You should have called me out," Louis hops off the counter.

"For what?" Harry shrugs, "Picking up after me?"

"Erm, yeah?" Louis clasps his hands behind his back.

"Louis," Harry grins, "Stop acting like you're talking to a god, and you can finish eating. Just, treat me like a member of the staff, or a friend."

Louis raises an eyebrow, "Are you sure you want that?"

"Yes," Harry nods at Louis' unsure expression.

"Thanks, Harry," Louis sighs and grabs his bread again, "Working in the royal castle is horrible. I keep thinking I'm going to mess up and get told to leave."

"You haven't messed up at all," Harry smiles kindly.

They spend a few hours like that, talking into the night. Louis makes apple pie upon Harry's request and Harry watches him as he does. Then, after they've finished eating the pie and Louis says he really needs to sleep, Harry grabs ahold of Louis' face and kisses him, softly. It's simple, but effective. Louis is left looking completely dazed as Harry smiles and walks away.

***

The next morning, Louis doesn't serve breakfast. Nor does he come out for lunch, neither for dinner. Harry wonders if the kiss was a little too much. Gemma seems to notice Louis' absence as well and she raises her eyebrows questioningly at Harry. Harry shakes his head and looks away.

It continues like that for a few days. Louis doesn't come out to serve at all. It's as if he is purposely avoiding Harry.

*** 

"Here's your crown. You must wear it for your father's returns from Ireland today," Anne gently places the golden, bejeweled crown atop Harry's thick curls, "Be down at then front enterance within moments."

"Yes, Mum," Harry nods at her.

"Wear your green, silk suit, and remember to keep your crown on all day. You know how your father hates it when you don't," Anne places a hand on Harry's cheek and smiles.

When Harry reaches the front entrance he see's that the entire staff is lined up along the inside, all of them eagerly awaiting the arrival of their king. And amongst them is Louis, leaning forward onto his tiptoes to be able to see where the king will be entering.

Harry stops in his tracks and simply admires Louis from afar. He's got his hands clasped behind his back and he's craning his neck to try get a good view.

Louis bounces back onto the balls of his feet, then settles down, flat footed. Suddenly, as if he can feel Harry's eyes on him, he spins his head around and looks right at Harry.

Harry coughs and continues strolling forward, his eyes still fixated on Louis. Louis' gaze travels up to Harry's head, obviously taking in the crown. Immediately, Louis turns his gaze to the floor. From that one gesture, the weight of the crown atop Harry's head feels far too heavy.

***

After not coming out to serve for days, Louis steps out that night, holding a large, covered platter.

Harry doesn't notice right away. He only sees Louis when Gemma kicks at his foot under the table. Harry first glowers at Gemma, but when she lightly nods her head toward Louis, Harry's gaze softens.

Louis keeps his eyes on the floor. Even when he comes right up to the table, right next to Harry, Louis doesn't raise his eyes.

As much as Harry loves Louis' eyelashes, he loves the dark blue eyes that sit underneath them more. So, being himself, Harry sticks his foot out from under the table when Louis is turning. He only means to catch his attention, but Harry end up tripping Louis.

This time, however, Louis doesn't fall away from Harry. His foot twists underneath him and he lands right in Harry's lap.

"My ankle!" Louis whispers, his voice higher than usual.

Harry's face reddens from guilt and his stomach twists as he realizes he's hurt Louis.

"What is going on?" The king's voice shouts down the table.

Louis's eyes seem as if they're about to pop out of his skull as he slides himself off of Harry and stands, gasping in pain.

"He's hurt," Harry tells his father and stands up behind Louis, grabbing ahold if his shoulders, "I'll go see that he gets treated."

"You tripped me on purpose," Louis angrily whispers to Harry.

"I didn't mean to," Harry lies.

Louis huffs and hops forward on one foot, with Harry holding him upright. They make it to the kitchen this way.

"He needs to be taken upstairs," The head chef tells Harry, "I'll send someone out to fetch the doctor.

"I can't walk upstairs," Louis retorts, "In fact, I am not allowed upstairs!"

"I'll take you up the stairs," Harry says to Louis.

"I'm not allowed!" Louis shouts, hobbling away from Harry.

"I'm the prince!" Harry shouts back, stepping forward and picking Louis up in one swift motion, "And I am allowing you."

"Put me down," Louis tells Harry.

"Fetch the doctor," Harry nods at the head chef and walks out the doorway. He doesn't go into the dining room, he takes the back hallway toward the stairs.

"You're embarrassing me," Louis whispers to harry in the dimly lit hallway.

"Not my intention," Harry looks down to see Louis already looking at him.

"You're the prince," Louis says, as if just realizing.

Harry laughs, "Yes, I am."

"Why-" Louis doesn't finish, he simply looks away.

Harry enters his chamber and gently places Louis on his bed.

"Whose room is this?" Louis asks, sitting up and tracing his fingers across the white silk sheets.

"Mine," Harry grabs a pillow and places it under Louis' injured foot. He sits at Louis feet and gently takes off his shoes.

"Why would you touch my feet?" Louis whispers, "You're the prince, you shouldn't be touching anyone's feet."

Harry shakes his head, his crown sliding forward, "Hey," Harry snaps his eyes up at Louis, "Try this on," He removes his crown and scoots up to place it on Louis' head.

Louis' mouth drops open at the action and he just stares at Harry as if he's stabbed a man. Harry grins back at the sigt before him. He thinks to himself, if this works out, he'll be getting a crown made for Louis one day.

"Let me see your ankle," Harry returns to Louis' feet and slowly rolls up his pants, exposing his ankle, "Well, I actually do not know what to do so we can wait till the doctor gets here."

Louis gently takes the crown off with shaking fingers and sets it on the bed next to himself, "Why do you care for me?" Louis quietly asks.

"What do you mean?" Harry furrows his brow.

"Well, you're the crown prince and I'm simply one of your cooks. Why do you care for me? You don't seem to care for anyone else," Louis looks up at Harry and picks up the crown, setting it among Harry's curls, "You're royalty and I am nothing."

"You're not nothing," Harry shakes his head and shifts forward.

Louis sadly smiles, "I don't understand you."

"I think I fancy you," Harry blurts out.

Louis' mouth drops open again, "How? No. What? No."

"Isn't that how love happens, quick and unprecedented?" Harry gently takes Louis' hands in his.

"I am nothing," Louis firmly repeats.

"You are everything," Harry counters as he leans in, fitting his lips against Louis' mouth.


End file.
